Ribbon Boxes
by The Silver Circuit
Summary: Removing his foot from the pedal, the sound faded into oblivion, and his thumb tilted her chin up to look in his eyes. - Soul x Maka -
1. The Ink Is Running Off The Page

**RIBBON BOXES**

" if you want to sing out sing out and if you want to be free be free "

-

c h a p t e r o n e

the ink is running off the page

-

It was peaceful sitting here. Perhaps a little lonely, but still peaceful. The lighting was a bit on the dark side, making it hard to comprehend the document laid before him, and the radio that played quietly at the other side of the room distracted his original intentions. Although, he managed quite nicely sitting here all on his own. There was nothing wrong with lounging around at home, but sometimes it was nice to get out of the house, even though he never expected to find himself here. Using coffee shops for leisure purposes were for girls, authors, and the occasional boyfriend that - most likely - was dragged there against his will by their girlfriends. Unfortunately, his situation involved none of the above, making him feel like an absolute pansy for even hanging around this place without having to be talked into it.

Not to mention that the joint was completely abandoned, for no one besides himself and maybe one small group of females could be seen within the proximity of the walls. But he wouldn't complain, considering he didn't believe he wanted to be bothered. For there was something he needed to get done, and he'd procrastinated to do so up until this point. "Can I get you anything, sir?" He glanced up on accord of the sudden speech, crimson irises evaluating the figure of another femme briefly before looking back down.

"Ah, I'm good, thanks." It was a polite attempt to brush her off, though just taking the chance that one wouldn't affectively take the hint he quickly occupied his mind with something else. Messily taking a pen to the paper and whipping another single series of five lines across the ashen surface, pondering on what to add beside that. His mind was blank and lacked any few amounts of creativity that normally lingered apart from the details that had been repeated down the entire left side of the sheet already: a series of identical numbers and key indicators.

"Studying for something, maybe?"

Clearly, he wasn't in the mood to start up some kind of small talk with a stranger that simply decided she wanted to scrape up some information from this random boy who sat alone in a coffee shop. Maybe it was because he stood out here. Hell, he stood out almost everywhere when there were normal people involved, but he was occupied now and also was pretty sure that should have been obvious. "Shouldn't you be working?" He mumbled, just loud enough to hear. There wasn't any time to waste.

"You're the only one here now." The distinctive sound of a chair sliding against mahogany flooring interrupted the nonexistent silence, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her collapse into the seat. "And I'm bored."

Outgoing much? She spoke to him as if she'd known him her entire life. He, personally, would have never walked up to someone he'd never met before on mere impulse to talk with them. Such an action wasn't in his nature. Although, he admitted that if he didn't have to finish something, he would probably offer more of a conversation than he was doing so now. "I'm writing something… For someone." It'd been a few moments, though he decided to answer her first inquiry.

"For who?"

"My girlfriend."

Amazingly, it still surprised him to say it, the words feeling abnormal as they rolled off his tongue. But saying it was something he hadn't had to do very often. She had decided to travel the world. Just like her mother. And unfortunately, he didn't get the honor of coming along with her. He was sure that she would have loved for him to tag along, going on a multitude of adventures just like they did years ago, but worldwide travel was expensive, and her father wouldn't have wanted to throw away his money on a boy who was trying to seal his little girl away from him.

So, Soul stayed behind, trusting that she wouldn't leave him, and she never let him down on that assumption on each occasion that she'd came back to visit. And therefore, he expected this time to be no different.

"You have a girlfriend, do you?" She asked, leaning onto the table, her chin resting upon laced fingers. "Shouldn't she be here with you, then?"

This girl asked too many questions, but he felt that the only way to make her leave him be was to answer them, so he carried out doing do. "She's traveling the world without me, for reasons I don't want to explain." He sighed, sprinkling another handful of notes upon the lines as they bubbled up in his mind. "And this is her birthday present, she's coming back to visit for bit on Wednesday." It been nearly half a year since he'd seen her last, and he wondered how much she would have changed since then, a lot could happen in a few months; he knew that all too well.

There was a confirming silence here, as if the femme before him was searching for words, searching for a response. But, as she found noting acceptable, she simply changed the subject back to something that had already been touched on slightly. "So, what is it? A love letter or something?"

He lifted his head, "You sure are nosy."

"Just curious."

Another silence rested between the sounds, "Cool guys don't write love letters." He smirked; the hilts of pointed teeth peeking though thin lips. "It's a piano piece." The pen dropped down onto the tabletop as he stared down vacantly at the inked notes residing in chords within and atop a variety of lines and spaces. He didn't even get to listen to it as he wrote, hoping his musical instincts wouldn't fail him at this point, and turn out just as he imagined it.

"She plays?"

Shaking his head he smiled down at his work, "No, I do."

At the very back of his mind, the reminder of an issue seemed to invade. He hadn't taken the time to personally own a piano for many years, because he merely believed it wouldn't be worth it, and he most certainly didn't find the need to throw his pay away on such an instrument. He knew he would play it only once for some kind of special occasion, and then leave it there against a wall in the living quarters of his apartment to sit and collect dust for a decent handful of months afterward.

Straightening his posture, he glanced around the room, allowing his eyes to inspect each wall. Off in the corner, blending in with the dim lightning sat the onyx silhouette of a large grand piano, taking up nearly the entire space it was provided. He looked it over from a distance before relaxing back down into his seat again. "Oi, come Wednesday, before you close up, how would you feel about me using that old thing over there?"

She leaned against the back of her chair, turning her head to where his gaze rested. "Well, I suppose you could, I haven't ever seen anyone play it though, so it's probably out of tune. But, why so late? No one will be around to listen."

"I only want her to hear."

The answer was simple and got straight to the point without hesitation. He only played for others very rarely; it was considered an amazing event when he'd decided to play for his friends. But at this point, she would be the only one that mattered, so Maka was the only one who deserved to listen. To him, she was the only one that he would allow to be around, especially since the song itself was handmade and unique, the only copy in the world now, and the only copy that would ever be made. "I'll call someone in to tune it tomorrow." He pushed himself up on his feet in a single, fluid movement, gathering the ashen sheets in one hand, while tucking the pen behind his ear for only a short while. His work here was done, and he now dismissed himself quickly without any further detail.

"Ja ne, miss."

-

_This is the first fanfiction to be added in my gallery, and I do believe that it meets the expectations I was imagining it to be. If I'm smart enough to remember such a detail, this is probably one of the first stories/chapters I've ever written with over 1,000 words, and considering my minuscule attention span, that's a huge accomplishment. xD "Ribbon Boxes" is estimated to have only three chapters, and no more, considering it takes place over the short span of three days. This chapter probably bored to half to death because in all honesty, it wasn't very exciting at all. (Or interesting, for that matter.)_

_I'm a bit disappointed that my indenting won't show up here. xD_


	2. Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces

**RIBBON BOXES**

" if you want to sing out sing out and if you want to be free be free "

-

c h a p t e r t w o

finding beauty in negative spaces

-

The torrential downpour made the air feel damp amongst the crisp atmosphere, and the tinkering of golden bells hitting against a wooden surface filled the room with a silvery essence, making mahogany walls nearly shine with a unique radiance. It wasn't something he had become accustomed to, nor did he plan to come here every morning as if on routine, but for the days he needed, he supposed it would be alright being seen here.

It was going to a good cause, anyways.

Before the piano another man already stood – one much older than he – who had the top opened so that all the strings and hammers inside the instrument could be tinkered with. A heavy smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he approached scene, peering inside for only a moment before his gaze rested upon the male who worked ahead of him. "Thanks for coming in." He leaned against the wall which resided nearby the piano, easing a hand into his pockets as he relaxed down into a much more casual, detached stance.

The man looked up, a smile flickering across his face. "Ah, anything for you, especially considering it must be a special occasion."

Soul wasn't known to play for people willingly, and anyone that had decently met him before understood that fact. Perhaps it was because he got tired of it quickly; or maybe because he didn't know what he was capable of, but regardless, others seemed to enjoy it when he did, even if the pieces he improvised were always rather dark selections. Though, he hoped this time would be different. For technically, this was an improvisation as well, although it had been written on paper, he hadn't played it for himself. And he wasn't planning to either. Yet, brushing the situation aside, he straightened his posture once again, taking a few steps forward. "Have you seen a girl around anywhere? She might have been here when you got in."

"Might this young lady be the reason you're giving a concert of sorts?"

His eyes narrowed. "No way."

With a chuckle, the tuner glanced back inside, "She went into the kitchen, I believe."

"Cool. Thanks."

He dismissed himself, walking away to instead place himself elsewhere – leaning up upon the countertop to peer back through the doors into the kitchen. It wasn't necessary for him to go back there, someone would probably yell at him, anyways. "Hey, you, I'm hanging around for awhile." It seemed as if he spoke like he owned the place, and could casually converse with this girl, who he still quite easily considered a stranger, and perhaps for a moment he may have felt slightly ashamed of it. But, in any case, it didn't seem as if he even realized that himself, so therefore it was easily brushed off.

Out through the opening, the waitress emerged, a crystalline glass being dried in her hand, "Writing again?"

He grinned, pivoting on his heel rather fluently. "You bet."

"Aren't you going sit at the piano or something? You know… To test it and see how it's coming along?"

He took a seat in an available chair at the opposite side of the room, spreading multiple sheets of inked pages out upon the tabletop. "I couldn't do that." At this point, he was very determined on his actions and no one could possibly change his mind. Everything had to be thought of beforehand. Because Maka would know what kind of questions to ask when she came here – and Soul wasn't a liar. "No one else is allowed to hear it before she does." Between his fingers the pen was grasped loosely, teetering back and forth, hitting the table's surface every few moments. "Because she'd be totally pissed off if she didn't get to hear it first." Truthfully, on their first meeting in the past six months, he would much rather not be hit in the head with the nearest hard object; or a book – which she'd probably have on her anyways – for that matter.

The girl rested her palms on the exterior of the table beside his paperwork, "Say… Your girlfriend… What kind of person is she?"

He sighed, "You really are way too nosy."

"And who said that was a bad thing?"

"I did." The pianist gave her a weary look, but lingering within crimson optics resided the familiar cockiness of his everlasting persona as he looked down upon his unfinished work as if to show her that he was uninterested.

"Well, that's too bad for you then, because I like being nosy." She draped the cloth that she had been using previously over her shoulder and set the glass down. "So… Tell me, please?" A grin was apparent, plastered across her face, and he could hear it in her voice without even having to glance up.

"Look, I'm bringing her here tomorrow, so after I finish you can meet her and talk about whatever you talk about, because I know it won't interest me."

"But you make it sound like you haven't seen each other in such a long time; I'd hate to take her from you."

That was true. He most definitely wouldn't want to have to be stuck hanging around while his girlfriend talked to this overly curious busybody. And, he assumed, Maka probably wouldn't want to either – as sociable as she could be – she'd probably be tired and would rather be elsewhere, even though this place was rather inviting, he hadn't planned on coming here in the first place when she had called a month or so back.

And besides, he couldn't make this the highlight of their evening once she arrived. They'd only have a day or so before she'd have to be taken from him again, and conversing in a coffee shop could be done anytime. But the thrill of seeing her again would only hast so long, and he'd hate to waste it.

He rested his chin upon the back of his hand, "I guess so… But I'm still not telling you what kind of person she is."

"Why not?" She pouted, as if she expected it to chance is mind.

"It's too much work; she can't be described."

"Oh, now you're just avoiding the question!"

He laughed softly, a breathy sound that nearly blended into the patter of the rain beating against the windowpane. "I'm not. It's true. She's her own adjective."

"And what might we call that adjective?"

"We call it Maka." Soul smiled broadly for an instant before dismissing her with a wave of his hand. "Now, I need to get some work done, so leave me alone."

She listened to his request hesitantly, and began to take a few steps in the opposite direction after he finally put his pen to the paper, selectively scribbling a various array of symbols and notes in-between the lines. He had done improvisations for so long, but he intended to allow her to keep this one, so just this once, writing it in ink had to be done.

-

_This took a bit longer than I expected, because school has been catching up with me lately and my old laptop had to be taken back so it could be fixed. (Normally I can deal with minor problems, but the screen was falling off. xD) But, I finished it finally. The last chapter will hopefully be out by next weekend at the latest, as I don't know how much writing I'll get done this week because I have a few concerts and rehearsals I need to attend. _

_ Also, a note that the waitress mentioned throughout the story does, in fact, have no name or appearance, simply because I didn't want to make a big deal out of her. So, I apologize if you get tired of hearing 'the waitress' or 'the girl' but there's really no other way to identify her. xD_

_ Enjoy!_


End file.
